


A Rose by Another Name

by LacunaChronicles (BabylonsFall)



Category: The Wayhaven Chronicles (Interactive Fiction)
Genre: Character Study, Developing Relationship, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Relationship Study, Scars, Tattoos, more a, of a sort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-20
Updated: 2021-02-20
Packaged: 2021-03-16 15:29:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,142
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29578215
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BabylonsFall/pseuds/LacunaChronicles
Summary: Scars are discovered, and things get metaphorical from there.
Relationships: Male Detective/Nathaniel "Nate" Sewell
Comments: 4
Kudos: 10





	A Rose by Another Name

“What is that?” Nate’s voice is soft in the muffled dark of the training room - echoing off thick walls and yet not quite managing to fill the space.

Dex pauses, throwing a glance back after dragging a towel down his face, raising an eyebrow. “What’s what?” Nate’s staring at him - wait, no, specifically, he’s staring at his chest. He frowns, glancing down. Sure, their sparring had gone a little longer than usual - he had a few new bruises he’d be sporting for a couple days, but nothing too exciting… Hell, he’d only stopped to take off his shirt because someone had apparently decided the warehouse needed to be heated in the middle of summer. “What, my tattoo?” is about all he can think of.

Nate blinks at him, then glances back down, eyes now clearly drawn to the large rose covering most of the left side of his stomach. “...Huh.” Then he shakes his head. “No, not that.” And then Nate’s in his space before Dex can blink. Which. Dex would never protest, but the suddenness and the intensity with which Nate is staring at him is making him...not uncomfortable, if only because he wasn’t sure he _could_ be uncomfortable in Nate’s space. But it’s making him... _aware_ of himself, in a way that’s not wholly pleasant - not for the least reason because he’s still confused.

And then Nate reaches up and...hell, he doesn’t even touch him, and Dex knows where his hand is heading. He takes a step back without really thinking about it, some small, quiet part of his brain asking for space, glancing down himself to see the scar he doesn’t notice anymore.

It’s not that big, all things considered. Hell, the ones on his neck put it to shame. And, given it’s been...what, ten years? It’s healed rather nicely too. A neat, unassuming starburst, only a couple shades off his pale skin, and about an inch below his clavicle, and a little too centered to be comfortable.

“Huh. Forgot about that.” He’d been planning to get it covered, like the other one. Why hadn’t he done that yet? He vaguely remembers an intent, and then...nothing. He’d gone in for the first tattoo and just. Never went back for the second cover up.

“You...forgot?” And the question brings him back to the moment; the soft, almost tentative tone anchors him to it.

“Not like. Forgot it was there.” He’s quick to explain, offering a smile that Nate doesn’t seem to buy, where he’s standing still, arms crossed loosely over his chest like Dex can’t see his fingers curling to keep from reaching, “Forgot to get it covered.”

There’s something... _wrong_ in the way Nate’s holding himself, away, and inward, Dex realizes, as the silence falls again. Something Dex can’t quite - he glances at Nate’s hands, and wants to smack himself.

He’d pulled away, and Nate wasn’t going to question it. Wasn’t going to assume. Sighing softly, he steps back into Nate’s space - doesn’t miss the minute twitch of fingers, the subtle resettling of weight back on his heels, like he’s ready to move in Dex’s wake. Give him the space he’d instinctively asked for.

But he doesn’t want that. Instead, Dex gently reaches out, offering a hand instead of taking. 

There’s all these little...cracks, between them. They can’t see them when they look for them - but maybe that’s because they _don’t_ look for them - not really, not if they can help it. But they trip and fall and stumble across them, and eventually...eventually they’re going to have to stop and figure out how to keep on going. But this one? This one Dex can fix, before it becomes a problem.

He knows Nate’s watching him quietly - those warm brown eyes watching him just as intently as he’s watching Nate’s hand. It seems a long moment before Nate takes the offer, but when he does, Dex tugs, gently, and pulls Nate’s hand to his side. Right at the center of the black inked rose.

It’s a much bigger scar than the one at his collarbone. Bigger, uglier. He knows why that one he didn’t forget to cover. It’s only saving grace? It was almost impossible to see if you didn’t know it was there, twisted and buried in thick black lines and too-soft shading.

“You know, if I’d known the agency back then? Probably wouldn’t have needed the tattoo. They worked miracles with this one.” He gestures vaguely to his neck with his free hand. He’s still loosely holding Nate’s wrist, but he can feel - muted and dull - fingers mapping out the hidden whorls and ridges of the scar.

Something about that catches Nate’s attention, dark eyes glancing back up to meet his with a frown. “Surely Agent DiBella could’ve pulled some strings, even if you didn’t know how.”

“Rebecca doesn’t know.” Dex says simply, half-shrugging a shoulder. “I mean, she might _now_ , after all those damn tests those doctors ran. Or after she rifled through my job history, once it became important to _her_ job. But, it happened well after I’d moved out of her house. Hell, I don’t even think I spoke with her in the year leading up to it, and the year after.” There’s some distant bitterness to the whole thing - a bad taste in the back of his mouth from remembered hurts, like weeds in his lungs - but it’s muted now. Because weeds may be hardy little shits, but they still need something to grow, and he has nothing for Rebecca anymore.

He pauses, blinking down at Nate’s hand, now splayed across his stomach, palm flat to the center of the rose. There’s a...familiarity to the touch, to the gentle pressure, and Dex can’t remember why he pulled away in the first place. But, it’s not until he places his hand over Nate’s, presses it into his skin like it belongs that Nate even seems to realize what he’s doing.

“I’m not asking now,” Nate starts, soft and aching, “But will you tell me, someday?” his other hand gently grasps at Dex’s waist, pulls them closer together with that confidence that Dex adores slowly but surely threading back into familiar movements.

Another crack, winding between them. Another mended before it can break.

“I will,” Dex loosely loops one arm around Nate’s neck, keeping him close. “Will you tell me yours?” he asks, into the starless space left between them, his free hand coming up to rest lightly over Nate’s chest.

Not ‘if you do’. Not ‘when you do’. There’s a dance they’re learning here, through the cracks and the shadows. A back and forth they’re still tripping on. But they’re learning.

And the smile Nate gives him is sad and oh so sweet. But there’s a small nod. They’ll learn this dance, one step at a time.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! 💛 You can find my other Wayhaven nonsense [here](https://chroniclesinlacuna.tumblr.com/)


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